Imagine
by SakuraHottie13
Summary: She was only gone for 2 weeks yet he craved her. He needed release, so he let his memories push him over the edge of ecstasy. Olicity


He walked out of the bathroom, steam from the recent shower billowing around him like a cloaking mist. Taking in the empty bedroom, he sighed and unfastened the towel around his waist. Her favorite perfume was absent from the dresser, but her scent lay entangled within the threads of their sheets. He couldn't fight the surrounding loneliness at her absence. Felicity had only been gone for two weeks out of her scheduled four week departure to check multiple Queen Consolidated systems around the country, and he desperately missed her. Everyone steered clear of his stormy attitude with Felicity gone; Diggle had wisely warned Roy if he wanted to see the rest of his twenties he would cease with joking about Oliver's "blue balls syndrome". Isabel Rochev even limited her snide comments about his "puppy-dog-like" attachment to his fiancée and kindly left him alone so long as he signed paperwork and showed up to board meetings on time. Needless to say the weeks had been one of the worst weeks of his life, including the time he'd spent on Lian Yu.

Two weeks without Felicity felt as if someone had ripped out his soul. After living with her for two years, Oliver had become accustomed to the steady routine she had set for him; in fact she was the only thing he could count on in his life to be routine. He could always count on her waking before him and urging him out of the bed to make it to work on time. He could always count on her binging on Ben and Jerry's Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream and watching "The Proposal" on the third week of every month. He could always count on her needing to feel his arms around her after he came home from patrol. Felicity was the stability he craved after the hellish ordeal on the island, the Undertaking, and dealing with Slade again. He would never understand how she had wormed her way into his life or why she agreed to spend the rest of her life piecing together a broken man, but he was eternally grateful that she had.

Oliver lay back on their bed and allowed the scent of her to wind its way around him and engrain itself into his memory. He fought the urge to call her, but it was after midnight on the East Coast. Instead he closed his eyes and allowed thoughts of her to run through his mind. He thought first of her glorious hair, of the way the golden dyed tresses slipped through his fingers as he ran his hands through them. His hands moved south, down his body, as he thought of her warm skin sliding up his muscled frame. He paused at the scars over his chest and abs, scars Felicity loved to run her tongue over. He had joked that his scars were her biggest turn on and she had gladly agreed. He wrapped his calloused hands around his hardening length, thinking of more delicate, smoother hands in their place. His mind's eye honed in on the ring on her finger that declared her his. He would be lying if he said his chest didn't swell every time he watched a man's face fall when they caught sight of the glistening diamond that was far beyond their pay grade; he also noticed the smug little smile that claimed Felicity's face whenever she saw the envy in Isabel's eyes. That little smile gave him wet dreams. He squeezed his length lightly and imagined her hand replacing his. One hand would apply even pressure as it grazed over his warm flesh; at the same time she would drag her nails behind her hand, sending goose bumps up his spine. She would blow on the trail her hands left, causing his toes to curl in a delicious manner; he would never admit how much he loved that, but he was pretty sure she knew. When he thought he couldn't take another stroke, her mouth would descend with hungered fury over him. Her tongue would replace her hands and her wet cheeks would suck him in, pulsating and mimicking her hot core.

Oliver would never understand what it was about her sucking him that turned her on so much, but his fingers would always meet with a river of arousal flowing from her. He began to stroke himself a little faster, biting his lip at the consuming pleasure. While Felicity would continue bobbing her head, her hair would ripple around him, creating a new sensation as the ends tickled his nerve endings. He would run his hands over her firm ass and slide his thick finger over her slit. She loved the calluses on his fingers, permanent from nocking arrows; she said they created bumps and groves that gave her a different sensation than the softer parts of his hands. His mind remembered clearly the feel of her slick clit as he began to rub small circles. Her throat would vibrate her appreciation, sending waves of pleasure through him. He swore he could cum in a heartbeat watching her grind against his hand and sucking him at the same time. She would look up at him and he'd be lost in the beauty of her lustful blue eyes. He'd pull her up to him before he lost himself in her mouth.

He picked up the pace of his strokes; his toes began to clench. He begrudgingly removed his hand, breaths coming in pants as his lungs tried to drag in enough air. He wanted to prolong this; he wanted to savor the feeling. After he had calmed down enough not to explode at that very second, his mind drifted back to Felicity. He would kiss her deeply, thrusting his tongue against her in a rhythm he would repeat with his manhood. She would moan as her hands slipped over his shoulders and behind his head, tight body wringing against him begging for fulfillment. She would choose how he took her first. Some nights she would take charge and keep him on his back, other nights she would demand he dominate her. He had never imagined that under her modest, sexy librarian façade lie a succubus demanding pleasure from an oh so willing servant. His mind chose for her to be on top first. Many times he was struck mute as she looked down on him; her hair would encase them in a glowing curtain and she would smile down at him before bringing him into her sacred body. She would throw her head back in ecstasy and he would fight to keep his eyes open as her warm velvet surrounded him. She would lean back and he would follow her up, lips clasping onto the artery in her neck, her nipples, or whatever he could. His hands would encircle her beautiful breasts, testing their weight in his hands. Oliver began to pump his length harder mirroring the weight of her ass as she hammered onto his hardened rod. His fingers itched to grab the phantom hips, to sink himself into the pure perfection that was her. He fought groan after groan thinking and imitating her movements. His name a mantra on her lips as she rode him, striving for completion. He would flip her over and sink deep into her, but never deep enough; he yearned to fade into her, to drink deeply from her soul until they didn't know where one began and the other ended. She would wrap her legs and arms around him and clench her walls to draw him closer still.

She would cry out for him to go faster, harder, deeper and he would obey her. He gave her everything she asked for, always would. The sweet feel of orgasm pooled in his stomach and Oliver didn't know if he wanted to follow his body's urging or wait just a few more minutes. Still holding onto her, one hand would slip between them and fondle her clit. Her body would ripple around him, telling him she was ready, she was there. He would fight to wait for her, beginning to see stars forming behind his head. She would tell him it was ok to cum inside her; she wanted to feel his essence surge through her, and he wanted to feel her take him into her nurturing body. He would repeat her name like a prayer, praying to her that she would never leave him, would never cast him away. She didn't have to say anything; he knew she understood his desperation to keep the one thing in his life that was pure and untainted by the darkness he protruded. He would thrust into her so hard he feared he would break her but she would clamor for more. He would grip her so hard he would leave bruises, but she told him to never let go. He would plead with her to take all of him, but she would tell him she couldn't survive without him. He couldn't hold back anymore. His cum would surge from his body into her sweet walls, searching to fill her with himself, to create new life. He would see her with absolute clarity, knowing that she was his paradise. He would feel his soul entangle with hers every time they joined. Sweat trickled down his body. It never ceased to amaze him how even thinking about her could bring him such pleasure and peace. He stroked the last few spurts of cum from his manhood before looking at it splayed across his stomach. A memory of his cum painting Felicity as she dipped her fingers in it and sucked them clean flashed through his head causing him to groan; she really would be the death of him if he didn't gain more control over his reaction to her.

Suddenly Oliver grabbed the hand reaching out towards him. He opened his eyes and meant crystal blue orbs twinkling down at him. He blamed the intense orgasm for delaying his recognition of his fiancée. Felicity smiled at him then drug her fingers through his essence before slipping them into her mouth. Oliver groaned and let his head drop back onto his pillow. Once she had finished cleaning him off, he pulled her to rest against his cooling body.

"I didn't hear you come in." His voice was raspy and sex-laden. The gruff tone of his voice caused a spark of desire to shoot through her.

"I figured." His breath caught in his throat at her alluring smile. She set her purse down on the floor and removed her coat, leaving on her office heels.

"What are you doing home so early?" He noticed she had to have been in the apartment for a while since she wore nothing under her trench coat; he'd have to practice being more aware while masturbating.

"I thought you might miss me too much so I finished updating the systems early by hacking into various mainframes. I don't know why we didn't think of that first, unless you were trying to get me away." It was a joke but he could hear the slight questioning in her tone.

"Ask Diggle and Roy if I wanted you away." She let out a snort and shook her head.

"Poor boys," She paused and then took in his relaxed frame. "Looks like you had more fun than I did."

"Give me ten minutes." He sat up a little. She straddled him and his hands immediately went to her hips, finding purchase in her familiar body.

"I'll make it five."


End file.
